Ongoing needs in Kumamoto

For the charity concert in Sendai today, I will report on the current situation in Kumamoto. Though unable to visit recently, members of our Tokyo church network or missionary agency have continued to go about every two weeks, following up on needs and new contacts.


-Aftershocks less frequent. Fear abating.
-Many need to move but not enough apartments available. Many still live in temporary housing, shelters, or cars.
-Heat making life in shelters unbearable.
-City hall or hospital employees overworked. Many yet to clean and fix own homes.
-Children showing signs of emotional trauma related to earthquake, such as fear of homes or dark areas and worsened mental state exhibited through uncontrollable anger and cursing.
-Reports of food poisoning from cookouts at shelters and hospitals have shut down that work in many places, leaving concerts the main path for relationship building, heart care, and other help. (See "CONNECTING" below.)
-Kyushu Christ Disaster Support Center at Harvest Church building condemned. Headquarters moved to nearby church building with ample parking and facilities, greatly helping relief effort.


Japanese government responding to widespread need but not equipped to meet needs of individuals or neighborhoods, making individuals volunteers, NPOs, and church networks essential.

DEBRIS REMOVAL - The government cannot remove debris from individual homes and apartments. Some are unable to do it themselves. Often multiple visits by volunteers are needed.

CONNECTING - Many do not know how to receive financial remuneration and other help offered through city hall, NPO's, and church networks. Volunteers pass on news of services available and get forms submitted when necessary.

HEART CARE - Cafes, counseling, concerts, etc. It is difficult for people in Kyushu to show weakness to neighbors. This is true throughout Japan but is strongest in Kyushu, because Christian persecution hit here the strongest. Neighborhoods were broken into groups of five families. Infractions of the law brought punishment, in some cases death, to the whole group. Culture of not sharing true self continues today.

CHILDREN - Programs for children needed!


White pieces of paper...

(A journal entry by 26-year-old pianist Ellie Honea, who works with us in Tokyo and traveled with us to shelters in Kumamoto.)

White pieces of paper...

I pick them off my shirt, which no longer smells of smoke from outdoor grills or looks muddy from evacuation centers on a rainy morning. Clean, new, fresh...and covered in tiny bits of clean white paper. Not a smudge of ink left. Not a trace of the hastily written note and phone number to remind me of those 10 digits. The bits of paper are like fallen cherry blossoms, a reminder of our fleeting moment of friendship and connection.

I met Narita-san at the top of the stairs as if waiting for me. She gave a grateful sigh when she saw what I was carrying. I had just walked down the hallway of an elementary school-turned-evacuation-center, arms loaded with thin insulated silver mats. The mats are not much, but certainly more comfortable then the thin cardboard sheets or single tarps I see being used as beds in the classrooms around me.

Narita-san quickly guided me through a maze of staircases and hallways to areas of greatest need, sharing her story as we went. Her house was okay, she told me, so she's not staying at the shelter but volunteers as able. Her neighbor's house was marked with a bright red "Don't enter! Condemned!" sign, and she wears a hard hat when she leaves the house, afraid aftershocks will send chunks of debris raining down on her. Her family was also fine, she told me. Her daughter lives in Tokyo, and her grandson just started university. Out of the worry and hurry comes a smile, unique to proud grandparents everywhere.

We stop to chat with two young girls, sitting on a table with legs swinging. I hope this time will stick in their memories as a fun camp-out, where school was cancelled and instead had sleepovers with friends for weeks on end. Narita-san and the girls told me about the school's music teacher, who often serenades students from the piano during lunch time. "Music is wonderful, isn't it?" Actually, I told them, it so happens that our team has three musicians and our van is packed with a violin, keyboard, and portable pipe organ! Maybe we also could play a concert during lunch time?

Narita-san talked with the shelter leader, and an hour later the gym became a concert hall, with pop-tents serving as prime box seats. I silently prayed over the room as rhythms and melodies of Bach and Vivaldi filled cracks of stress on worried faces and pushed out unspoken fears. After the concert, I again found Narita-san, who seemed to share my feeling that we were instantly old friends. We exchanged phone numbers, and I told her to call me if she ever came to Tokyo.

I wonder if she will. I wonder if my phone number is still there in her folder. Even if our relationship is over like this year's cherry blossom viewing, maybe our encounter made as much an impact on her as it had on me. Maybe the encounter will, like cherry blossoms, be all the more precious for its brevity. Maybe she will think back and remember those Christians who floated in with love flowing from black and white keys and vibrating violin strings...


The People of Kumamoto

KUMAMON - The beloved mascot and symbol of Kumamoto
When people ask "What was Kumamoto like?" I have trouble responding. "It was powerful," I say. "Deep. Life-changing. I want to go back." I often think about the interaction with people in the shelters. To meet such a range of people, engage in deep conversations, and mutually impact each other's lives in just a 3 hour span of time is hard to imagine in times not in crisis. Their stories are hard to forget:

One young lady got married just two weeks before the earthquake. Moving from a faraway city to live with her husband, she now finds herself in a gymnasium with a large number of people where she knows no one and her husband is gone all day. There were two pillows, labelled "bride" and "groom" respectively with their wedding date, placed on a blanket which functioned as their marriage bed.

One 12-year-old girl came up after the concert and played many pieces for us. I was amazed she had so much music memorized, and asked if she had any chance to practice while in the shelter. "No," she said, "Actually, I gave up music when I entered junior high. There's no time for that anymore..." She explained that she was now involved in school clubs along with everybody else, and there was no way to fit in piano. When we left though, she said, "You reminded me of my love for music. I think I'll start up again."

One lady in her late 60's, staying in the shelter with her elderly mother, profusely thanked me for coming and playing. The two of them were so lonely and afraid of the aftershocks. She told me how she goes back to the house now and then to clean up after the earthquake, "but," she said, "I hear things falling and those heavy clay tiles on my roof moving with each aftershock, and it makes me nervous. I can't possibly sleep there." The conversation then suddenly switched to something that had obviously been on her mind, and I received my highest compliment ever! "You remind me of Amakusa Shiro," she said shyly. "I see light shining from you." In 1637, Amakusa Shiro led a rebellion of 37,000 peasants against Christian persecution and overtaxation by a corrupt government in an area near Kumamoto. The Tokugawa Shogunate swept in with an overwhelming number of troops and beheaded all 37,000, roughly half of whom who noncombatant women and children. There was a famous statue of him praying with eyes heavenward not too faraway.

So many more stories...


Art as an Emergency Supply

Two big earthquakes in 5 years! Each time, I went as a truck driver to deliver emergency water, food, fuel, and supplies...but each time I was asked to come back as an artist, as a musician. Never before have I realized the purpose and power of art. Before it seemed like something "extra," something people do when they have 余裕 (literally: surplus abundance of time, money, energy, etc.) in their lives. But through these disasters, I see that art is essential. Art is one of the essential emergency supplies! Why don't first responder teams include musicians?

The truth is counter-intuitive. People in Tokyo say, "It's too early for musicians. We need to wait until the important things are taken care of." Leaders in shelters say, "I'm not sure we should bring in music," wanting to stick to the basics and protect the people. People in shelters sometimes cover their heads with blankets and turn away from us. Then, we begin to play, and the atmosphere COMPLETELY changes. People stand in line to talk to us. People share their lives with us. They play and sing for us. They cry for us, and remember their humanity with us. NOBODY expects music to have such an effect. What a gift we have been given in music! May we learn as a people how better to embrace it for 人間の繁栄 (literally: everywhere-all-the-time flourishing of humankind).